


Thriller

by skivvysupreme



Series: The Wax Verse [5]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Assault, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:56:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3407993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skivvysupreme/pseuds/skivvysupreme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Jackson-Off was a good idea, in theory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thriller

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place during "Michael," canon-wise.
> 
> (This series is written out of order. If you'd like a chronological list, I'm on tumblr under the same name, and have a masterpost for this verse which notes the story order!)

The Jackson-Off was a good idea, in theory. On paper, it should have gone well. Two high school glee clubs battling by singing at each other shouldn’t have harmed anything more than a few egos. It should have become another amusing story in the long, bizarre anthology of New Directions lore, something to reminisce over much later with an _Oh my god, remember that one night when we…?_

That is not what happened.

Kurt sat at the wheel of his Navigator, climbing levels of the quiet parking structure with Blaine in the passenger seat, Sam and Rachel in the two seats behind, and Finn stretched out in the third row. Blaine held Kurt’s gloved hand over the center console and drummed his fingers on the other armrest.

He felt Kurt squeeze his hand. “Are you nervous?” Kurt asked, watching the corner carefully as he turned the wheel with one hand.

“Yeah. I’m not scared of losing or anything, but this is the first time I’ve ever gone against the Warblers. It’s weird, them being across from me instead of next to me. But it’s just a friendly rivalry, right?”

Kurt kept his eyes on the parking garage. “Of course it is.” _Especially with Sebastian as captain_ , he thought.

They reached the third level of the garage, where the rest of New Directions was waiting in two other cars. Puck, Quinn, Santana, Brittany, and Rory piled out of one, while Mercedes, Tina, Mike, and Artie made their way out of the other.

“There’s Santana,” Blaine said, pushing his hood up. “Gotta get in position!”

“Okay. Go be scary,” Kurt smirked, running a finger down the shoulder of Blaine’s leather jacket. They met eyes and burst into giggles; it was downright silly and they both knew it, especially considering what either boy looked like at his scariest, but this was glee club and they would play their parts to the fullest.

“You look really hot,” Blaine said, his eyes raking down and up Kurt’s all-black ensemble for the evening. “You should be ‘bad’ all the time.”

Kurt’s eyes went black and his fangs dropped, just long enough for him to flutter his eyelashes and whisper, “Aren’t I?” in his most innocent voice before they switched back to normal.

Blaine shifted in his seat with a little growl. “I am getting out of this car before I can’t anymore,” he muttered, exiting on his side. Kurt laughed and did the same on his. Blaine darted around the car to give Kurt a quick kiss, then ran off to join Santana on the other side of the garage, yelling, “See you in five!” over his shoulder.

*****

The Warblers, as expected, performed with military precision, moving as a hive with Sebastian at their center. The New Directions, less sharp but far more soulful, met their cold glares with attitude at every turn, spread behind Artie and Blaine as Santana went on the offensive.

It was exhilarating, Kurt thought. Everyone’s hearts were pounding in his ears and adrenaline spiked the scents of everyone’s blood, amplifying the air around him. And in the midst of all of it, beating stronger and cutting through the haze of sweet, coppery-smelling humans, was Blaine. Kurt was hyper-aware of him as he weaved through the New Directions’ formations, challenging Warbler after Warbler whenever they passed. Kurt almost wanted to stop and let it all swirl around him, only for a moment, just to drink it in.

As the song wound to a close, something shifted. Sebastian, being the Warblers’ pivot point, should have ended up across from Artie, but he made a sharp turn around a misplaced little cluster of Warblers and stood straight across from Kurt on the right end of the line-up.

For a split second, Kurt met eyes with Sebastian, and everything flipped. Kurt was slightly taller, and the blazer sat square and bulky on his shoulders. There was a very large slushie in his hand. Kurt saw himself staring into his own — no, Sebastian’s eyes, and the arm with the slushie at the end of it swung forward.

Kurt spotted the target.

Blaine smelled the aggression.

As Kurt threw his arms up to protect himself, Blaine threw his body in front of him. Red liquid splattered everywhere, and Blaine slammed into the concrete at Kurt’s feet, screaming in agony. Kurt saw through his own eyes again and his vision tunneled around Blaine’s writhing figure on the ground. It took a second to realize that he wasn’t lying in a puddle of blood.

Kurt dropped to his knees beside him. “Honey? What’s wrong?” Blaine’s scent was all over the place. He put a hand on Blaine’s arm, trying to get him to roll onto his back, but Blaine curled in on himself and cried into his hands. “What is it? Let me see!”

All at once, Blaine’s entire body shuddered and he let out a distinctly wolf-like whine. His shoulders heaved and his pained grunting through gritted teeth switched to a deep growl. The eye Blaine wasn’t covering popped open to reveal a bright yellow glow, then squeezed shut again.

Kurt’s stomach dropped and he struggled for breath. He was abruptly aware of every other body in their vicinity, all of whom were getting closer and closer.

“Oh my god, is he okay?”

“I don’t get it, it’s just a slushie…”

“What the hell just happened?”

Kurt’s panic went bone-deep, because despite the fact that all of their friends were surrounding them, despite the fact that this area of the parking garage was well-lit and visible, and despite the fact that the moon was nowhere near full, Blaine was turning.

 _“FINN!”_ Kurt scooped Blaine into his arms and picked him up off the ground; he heard a few shocked noises behind him, but he paid them no mind. In the corner of his eye, Kurt saw Finn running over to him with Brittany and Santana at his heels. Kurt turned and jogged towards his car on the other side of the level.

“Kurt, what’s wrong with him?” Rachel called. “Shouldn’t we get someone?”

Finn shook his head at her. “Rachel, we’re — we’re taking him to the hospital, he hit his head or something, I’ll call you!” He caught up to Kurt and asked, “What’s wrong with him?” as Santana and Brittany came up on Kurt’s other side.

Blaine started to buck in Kurt’s arms and Kurt tightened his grip. “Shhh, shhh, I’m here, please hold on, Blaine, please — it’s his eye, something’s in his eye and he’s turning, I think it’s the pain, we have to get him out of here!”

“Well, is the slushie just gonna disappear once he’s a wolf?” Santana asked. “If the human can’t take it, what’s the wolf gonna do? Is he about to freak out on us in full beast mode?”

She actually looked scared, and Santana being scared put things in perspective. Would Blaine just keep crying and paw at his eye for relief, or would he do what lots of wounded animals do and lash out?

“I can hold him,” Kurt said. Maybe that was true, and maybe it wasn’t. They’d never had reason to test it.

Blaine was shaking violently. He tucked his head into Kurt’s neck and his skin burned hot and sticky with slushie where they touched. He still had his hand covering his right eye as he squirmed in Kurt’s hold and yelped in pain.

“Santana, take my keys, they’re — no, other pocket—”

There was a loud ripping noise as Blaine’s tail burst through the back of his jeans, hairless and wagging anxiously.

“Oh — _fuck!_ ” Santana screamed, snatching her hand back from Kurt’s vest pocket with the keys in her fist. Brittany leapt back in surprise before reaching to touch it, and Finn sprinted to open the trunk of the car.

Kurt looked down and saw the tail, whimpered, “Shit, _shit_ ,” and held tight to Blaine. He could feel the bones along Blaine’s spine shifting under his jacket, oh god, they hadn’t even gotten him out of his clothes, they needed more time—

“Finn, fold the seat down, lay out that blanket — stop, Britt, leave it alone — honey, shhh, I know, I know, I know…”

They all jumped into the car, with Santana at the wheel and Kurt, Blaine, Brittany, and Finn in the back. Blaine rolled out of Kurt’s grasp and onto his knees and elbows, his face pressed into his palms. Finn moved into one of the second-row seats to give them room as Santana peeled out of the parking spot.

Blaine’s body twisted and stretched against his clothes. Dark fur had already sprouted down his back — the tail looked a lot less creepy now — and the shoulders of the jacket were ripped at the seams.

“Britt, reach under, take off his belt!”

She did so, murmuring “Hold on, Puppy,” as in Puppy Warbler, the name she’d called Blaine ever since she and Santana found out about his condition, and stroked the small of Blaine’s back. Then she pulled off his shoes, and moved to try and slide the jeans down his legs, but Kurt stopped her.

“No time,” he said, and he grasped the belt loops on either side of Blaine’s hips. “So sorry, honey.” Kurt wrenched his arms in opposite directions and ripped the jeans clean off Blaine’s body, then did the same with the jacket, tearing it down the seam on the back.

Blaine was mostly wolf now, whining and clawing at the floor as Kurt worked to remove all his clothes. The fur on the back of his head was matted with hair gel and his muzzle was sticky and wet. He swiped his paws at his face but couldn’t do anything about whatever was stuck in his eye.

“Where the hell are we going?” Santana yelled from the driver’s seat when they finally made it out of the parking garage and back to the street. “Are we just gonna drop him off at the vet or something?”

“My house, Santana! Finn, can you call?”

The last of Blaine’s human skin and limbs were gone. He kept trying to rub his face on Kurt’s thigh, until Kurt held his head still. “No, Blaine, no touching your eye, not until we clean it!”

Blaine whined louder and Brittany draped herself over his side, petting and scratching his belly. He stopped jerking around as much, but his crying wouldn’t cease.

“Mom? We’re — we’re on our way home, we need help. It’s — yeah, it’s Blaine, you hear him? There’s something in his eye, would you be able to get it out?”

Kurt wiped at the fur around Blaine’s eyes with the end of his sleeve. Tiny chunks of something that was quite obviously not slushie fell away; it looked as though the transformation had pushed out most of the debris, but the eye was still hurting him.

Blaine started panting and shaking again.

“Puppy, shhh, stay still, it’s okay.”

“We’ve got you, honey. I’m here.”

Blaine pawed at Kurt’s arm for a moment, and then his paw wasn’t a paw anymore. Claws and fur retracted, fingers extended —

“Oh god, oh god!”

Santana glanced in the rearview mirror. “What the fuck’s happening back there?”

Finn turned to look at them, phone clenched tight in his hand. “Whoa, Mom, it’s okay, he’s turning back!”

“No, it’s not okay!” Kurt shrieked. “He doesn’t just turn this fast!”

“Is it what?” Finn asked into the phone. “Burt asked if it’s because it’s so far from the full moon and he’s not supposed to be turning at all.”

“I don’t know, I’ve never seen him like this!”

Brittany pushed herself off of Blaine, still saying, “It’s okay, puppy, it’s okay,” and threw the blanket on top of him as he emerged, naked and human, from his wolf form. His hair was sticking up in messy, gelled clumps, and his face was wet with tears. His eyes, irises glowing yellow, were red and irritated. Blaine’s skin felt too hot through Kurt’s pants where Blaine rested his head on his thigh; Kurt put his cold palm against Blaine’s cheek and the other hand on the back of Blaine’s neck.

“Kurt,” Blaine grabbed his wrist, pinning that hand against his face. “Kurt, please…”

“It hurts, I know, it’ll be okay.”

“Get it out,” he sobbed, clenching his eyes shut again.

“Almost home, okay? We’ll get it, I promise. You’re gonna be okay, just breathe.”

Another wolfish whine came out of him, and the transformation started again. Kurt looked up at Brittany, and she nodded, ready. 

*****

Blaine returned to his human state just before Santana pulled into the Hummel-Hudsons’ driveway. Kurt wrapped him up in the blanket and carried him into the house, pressing his lips to Blaine’s sweaty temple and whispering, “Focus, honey, stay with me,” into his ear. Completely exhausted, Blaine remained limp in his arms and cried, sniffling here and there but not making any more wolfy noises.

Carole tended to his eye with a rinse of saline solution, with Blaine sat between Kurt’s legs on top of the kitchen table so that Kurt could hold him still and keep him calm. The moment when Kurt had to press Blaine’s head against his chest so that Carole could hold his eyelid open and administer the solution had been tense, but Blaine’s relief at getting all remnants of the slushie out of his eye had been immediate.

“This is nowhere near proper procedure,” she said, handing Kurt a vicodin and a glass of water since Blaine’s arms were stuck in the blanket, “but I really don’t think it’s a good idea to take him to a hospital unless we know this is going to take some extra help. His eye looks okay and there really wasn’t anything left in it. It’s just irritated right now, so let’s let him rest and then check it in the morning.”

“When the hell is he gonna tell his parents?” Burt grumbled, handing mugs of hot chocolate to Finn, Santana, and Brittany, who were sitting together in the living room.

Kurt gave Blaine the pill and the water, then took him upstairs and drew him a bath. Blaine leaned with his arms draped over the side of the tub as Kurt scrubbed the dried red syrup off his shoulders.

"Get in with me?” Blaine slurred, drugged and tired beyond comprehension.

“Another time. A time when my dad isn’t downstairs.” He washed all the gel and slushie out of Blaine’s hair, massaging his scalp thoroughly, then got him ready for bed in a pair of sweatpants and a tank top. He guided Blaine to his bed and switched into his own pajamas before sliding in with him and turning off the lamp.

Kurt pulled Blaine close to him, so that Blaine’s warm nose was nestled in its favorite spot in Kurt’s neck. He couldn’t help but think: what if he had taken the attack as planned? He remembered how he’d reacted when Karofsky kissed him, how shock and fear had wiped out his human instincts and placed his vampire features on his face without warning. Kurt’s turn was always more like a lightswitch from hell, an immediate flip from poised human to fanged predator. If blinded by pain and hysteria in that parking garage, what would he have done? What could he have done to Sebastian? Could Blaine have stopped him? Would Kurt have wanted him to?

“I know what you did for me,” Kurt said after a moment. “This shouldn’t have happened to you. This is… this is between me and him.” At that last thought, the rage that had spent all night waiting dormant in the back of Kurt’s mind rushed to the forefront. He’d seen Sebastian’s intent, and through Sebastian’s eyes, no less. (Kurt had completely forgotten about that strange moment in the chaos that followed, but holy shit, what was that?) And what about the Warblers, who were once Blaine’s closest friends?

Kurt had put his arms up in time. He would have been okay. Yet Blaine, reacting purely out of instinct and love, had taken the attack. And for what, because Sebastian was angry at Kurt for being Blaine’s choice?

“No,” Blaine mumbled, half-asleep and stirring Kurt out of his darkening thoughts. “Mine. Always protect you.”

“I love you so much,” Kurt whispered as Blaine finally passed out.

Sebastian was going to pay, that much was for certain. But, for now, Kurt settled for knowing that Blaine was warm and alive and _okay_. He could worry about the rest in the morning.


End file.
